Old Acquiantances
by Oparu
Summary: Beverly goes out to celebrate the good old days on the Enterprise-D, Jean-Luc brings her home to Kathryn drunk. Fluff set after Drawing Maps and Uncharted. Crusher/Janeway


_Author's note: Set in the same continuity as 'Uncharted' and 'Drawing Maps'. For LadyNal, Happy New Year! _

* * *

_October 2379_

The cat woke up before she did. Da Vinci had been curled up on her lap, warm and comfortable. She'd tried not to admit she liked him there, but as she lost herself in her book, he'd grown on her. His feet were too much pressure for her all too delicate stomach, but he'd settled down without walking across and setting off her nausea. She'd been so surprised by that apparent display of feline-empathy that she'd let him stay.

And that had been hours ago, when she had just started her novel. Romulan dramatic literature had only recently been available for Federation consumption. The odd ex-patriot memoir appeared occasionally, but the true classics, like J'Tek of Sienae, and Voshnul of Titiaus, had never been released. With Federation-Romulan relations improving after the events of Deep Space Five, the Romulan Star Empire had agreed to participate in some artistic exchanges. Shakespeare and Tolstoy went to Romulus and J'Tek came to Kathryn.

She'd intended to just start the book, expecting Beverly home after her semi-annual requiem for the _Enterprise-D_ dinner with Jean-Luc and the rest of her old crew. The _Titan_ and the _Enterprise _were rarely on Earth simultaneously, and the dinners had to be an impromptu affair. She'd been invited, as she always was, but a quiet night in with her book had appealed more than listening to all the old heroic stories of the galaxy-class _Enterprise_. Although, she did love hearing about what life had been like on the great starship, and Beverly's past was always interesting, tonight she was tired.

Will had plans that involved some Brazilian jazz club, and as much as she loved Beverly's _Enterprise_ family, Beverly needed time with them, just them, and she was worn out. Kathryn was more tired than not lately. She was tired when she woke up, tired by lunchtime and half-exhausted by supper. Twice that week she'd begged Beverly to push supper back after she'd had time to sleep. The second time Beverly needed to wake her up, just to make sure Kathryn ate before falling asleep for the night.

This was, apparently, normal. Beverly was sweet and entirely supportive about it, but nothing she could do could make Kathryn feel less like she'd been blindsided by a warp-capable comet at maximum warp.

So, Beverly was out, no doubt reminding Jean-Luc how to mambo and teasing Worf about his lack of appreciation of jazz. Kathryn had a very quiet apartment, a warm, sleepily purring cat, and an intensely dramatic historical novel from Romulus. She was halfway through the second part, just getting into the intrigue and the romantic subplot about the Empress' personal guard and her lover, when something thudded against the door.

The laughter that followed suggested that a person had fallen against the door. Male laughter, deep and robust, mixed in with female laughter. Jean-Luc or Will was bringing Beverly home.

Kathryn stared down at the cat. Da Vinci too had been startled awake. He kept his eyes half-shut, daring her to move and displace him.

Beverly eventually let herself in, laughing as she stumbled, then leaned against the wall.

"Kathryn might be asleep."

Beverly's exaggerated whisper carried through the apartment.

The cat stood on Kathryn's stomach, making her wince from his claws before he stalked off to find a quieter place to sleep. Setting aside her book, she sighed and rolled off the sofa. Getting up sent her stomach reeling momentarily and she hoped Beverly wouldn't be too intoxicated. Normally Kathryn could handle other people being sick, but having to watch Beverly vomit would put her over the edge.

Kathryn circled the corner into the kitchen. Beverly had one arm securely around Jean-Luc's shoulders, and he had her around the waist. She giggled when she saw Kathryn, letting go of him and pulling herself along the counter.

"You're not asleep."

Kathryn put out her hand, offering herself as support. "I'm not."

"You should be." Beverly chirped, crossing to kiss her cheek clumsily. "It's late. I'm all late and you should be in bed."

"If she had been in bed, we would have woken her." Jean-Luc explained, smiling too broadly to be much more sober than Beverly. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. We lost track of time."

"We did, we did, we did." Beverly swayed between Kathryn and the counter. "We had this lovely Brazilian drink. Caprina-Capira-"

"Caprinha." Jean-Luc corrected. "They mix a white liqueur made from sugar cane with fruit and ice and lime juice."

"All kinds of fruit. Passionfruit, pineapple, cherries-" Beverly sighed, smacking her lips. "I liked the cherries." She lowered her head to Kathryn's shoulder, snuggling up. "Later, next year, we'll have to go."

"And everything was real alcohol?" She didn't need to ask, but both of them nodded enthusiastically. "It's been a while since I've had real alcohol."

"Longer for me." Beverly started to giggle again.

"Much longer for Deanna." Jean-Luc attempted not to join her, but failed utterly and began to laugh.

"Betazoids don't have a lot of strong drinks on their planet. They're physiology doesn't tolerate it well."

"I thought it was because drunken telepaths would be surrounded by naughty thoughts."

"Terribly naughty thoughts."

While Kathryn watched them, she put her hands on her hips. "Did Will and Deanna make it home safely?"

"They're back, beamed back." Beverly mimicked a transporter with her hands. "Zring! Back on board. All tucked in."

Jean-Luc agreed with that, having enough sense to get two glasses of water from the replicator. "Worf headed back with Geordi."

"And they were singing."

Beverly sank down against the wall, reaching for Kathryn's hands. She dragged them off Kathryn's hips and held them, dancing them in the air.

"Geordi's not very good at singing in Klingon."

"Klingon is a difficult language." Kathryn let her hands go limp and tried not to laugh. There was something adorable in how cheerful Beverly was.

"It's grammatically very simple." Jean-Luc piped up, holding a glass of water in midair while he decided who to hand it to.

Kathryn freed her hands and guided Beverly's around the glass. "Oh?"

"No articles, no gendered nouns, no linking words." Jean-Luc gulped his water and eyed Beverly's. "Do you want a hypospray for her?"

Kathryn almost said yes, but stopped, remembering Beverly's Romulan implants and cautious prognosis. If Beverly had been herself, she had a feeling Jean-Luc might have been the drunker one. "No, we want her liver to work through it on its own. Synthetic enzymes might not be compatible with the Romulan hepatic unit."

"So you're stuck with her like this?"

Kathryn crouched down, steadying Beverly's hands so she could drink. "Looks like it."

"Lucky you."

"Oh, I'm blaming you, Jean-Luc."

He chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Fair enough."

"Will you get back to the _Enterprise_ all right?"

He nodded again, even bowed slightly. "Of course, _madame._ I need only contact my ship before I am whisked away."

Mentioning the transporter, set Beverly off into the giggles again and Kathryn stared at her in amazement.

"I don't remember the transporter being something you found this hilarious."

"It tickles."

Kathryn had always found it closer to an itchy sensation than one like tickling, so she raised an eyebrow.

"It tickles," Beverly insisted, downing the last of her water and dragging herself to her feet to say good night to Jean-Luc. "Don't you think it tickles?"

"I've always thought it felt cold."

"Cold?"

"It tickles," Beverly concluded, kissing him first on once cheek, then the other. "Your nerves are just confused."

"You would know."

"Actually-" Beverly tapped a hand on his chest. "That's your new CMO's job now. Your physical well-being is no longer my responsibility."

He kissed her back, then cast a smile over her shoulder at Kathryn. "I'm sure Dr. zh'Voriss will be pleased to hear that."

"I like her. She's very intelligent, quick witted-"

"Sarcastic-"

"You need that in a CMO, otherwise you'd walk all over the poor woman."

Jean-Luc extended a hand towards Kathryn, and pulled her into a clumsy embrace that included Beverly as well.

"I assure you, I would never take advantage of the lack of a rapier wit in anyone under my command."

"Stubborn genes are good. We did match you with Kathryn, after all. If you weren't stubborn, you probably couldn't have gotten her pregnant." Beverly softened her teasing by kissing Kathryn cheek.

Jean-Luc's hand rested on her stomach, something far more intimate than the captain of the _Enterprise _would have allowed himself were he sober. Kathryn covered his hand with her own, giving him permission. He'd done them a great favour, sharing this experience with them. Though she didn't know him particularly well, Beverly loved him as one of her oldest friends. Kathryn had her suspicions that she'd grow to love him like a brother. She certainly didn't mind his presence, knowing that he was there if she needed someone to talk to who was equally lost on the whole idea of pregnancy was reassuring. He was a calm, often comforting presence she would not have had in her life were it not for Beverly.

"Take care of yourself, Jean-Luc."

"Did I apologise for getting her so drunk?"

"It's all right. Really. I'll take her to bed and-"

Beverly's hand slid ever so innocently down Kathryn's spine and she started. Jean-Luc's eyes widened.

"Good night, Captain."

He smirked as he escaped, leaving Kathryn alone with her entirely intoxicated wife and a cat who was still-sulking over his ruined nap.

Without Jean-Luc as a distraction, Beverly turned her full, if intoxicated, attention to getting Kathryn out of her top as efficiently as possible. Even drunk, she had nimble fingers and she had it up over Kathryn's bra before Kathryn had much say in the matter.

"What are you-"

"I thought that was obvious." Beverly's lips ran down Kathryn's neck, heading for her shoulder.

It wasn't fair. Beverly had been out all night and still she had energy for sex. Kathryn allowed herself to be led towards the bedroom, shrugging out of her cream-coloured top and letting Beverly unhook her bra enthusiastically. Her breasts were sore and she wrapped her arms around them, preventing them from being jostled too much on their way to the bed.

Beverly stopped kissing her and paused, holding her tight for a moment.

"Breasts hurt?"

Kathryn nodded, pouting a little. Her breasts hurt, her stomach was on some kind of strike against everything that wasn't absolutely tasteless, and she wanted to sleep all the time. Pregnancy was entirely unfair.

"I suppose you don't want to be on top then."

Beverly's whisper was full of promise, and she kissed Kathryn again, tasting faintly of cherries. She undid the zipper on the back of her low-cut red dress and it pooled at her feet. She fumbled with the clasp of her bra, then undid it with a grin. Stepping out of her shoes, she advanced on Kathryn, mounting her on the bed.

"Beverly-"

Kathryn's last protest was stalled with a finger over her lips.

"I'm drunk and you're gorgeous. Humour me."

"I'm not gorgeous when you're sober?"

Beverly smirked, easing off Kathryn's trousers with practised, if hurried fingers.

"I have self-restraint when I'm sober. I'd stop, wrap you up and cuddle instead of wanting to ravish you."

Kathryn had to laugh. "I'm ravishable?"

"Entirely."

"My breasts hurt."

"I'll be gentle."

"You're drunk."

"I can still be gentle."

Gasping instead of arguing, Kathryn surrendered as Beverly toyed with her breast instead of using her mouth to speak. She was right, not that Kathryn would admit it. Thankfully, she didn't have to verbally engage the idea. Beverly worked her way down, spending more time than usually close to Kathryn's stomach before returning to kiss her mouth.

Kathryn held her there, forcing Beverly to ease her panties off by touch alone. That, even intoxicated, Beverly did quickly. She stroked down Kathryn's inner thigh, warming her fingers on her skin.

"I missed you."

"I knew you were coming home."

"Drunk?" Beverly nibbled down Kathryn's neck, chuckling as she went.

"No, I did not imagine that-" Kathryn moaned, losing her train of thought, and abandoning all other forms of mental transportation of ideas. Beverly's fingers teased, then slid home. There was a slight impatience to it, a rushing that would normally be absent. It was all right. Beverly's alcohol-fuelled enthusiasm was sweet, and Kathryn had been aroused by her attentiveness.

Beverly was right, if she'd been sober, none of this would be happening, but the last trace of resistance vanished when Beverly guided Kathryn's hand down across her flat belly, between waiting thighs.

Beverly's sigh shivered through Kathryn like an ionic field. There was something to be said for ravishing, even when it was destined to be quick. Maybe it was the most of a week they'd gone without, or the contact high associated with Beverly being so thoroughly floating with the celestial dust.

Clinging so tightly that Beverly wriggled against her, Kathryn lost herself in orgasm with a tiny cry that Beverly kissed away. Hers came a later, more exalted finale than quiet and consuming. Beverly stayed with her, keeping her eyes locked with Kathryn's as she panted for breath.

"I should drink more."

"You say that now."

Beverly tugged the tangled sheets free from Kathryn's legs and crawled in next to her. She stretched out, letting Kathryn curl up. The cool night air was soon forgotten with the sheets and blankets pulled close. Beverly was deliciously warm, and Kathryn clung to that.

"I'll try not to be dreadful in the morning."

"I'm not going to be sympathetic if you vomit. In fact, I might hide with the Maestro."

"I haven't vomited from drink since-" Beverly had to think.

Kathryn was nearly asleep when she remembered.

"Walker Keel's fiftieth birthday party. Certain people should never be allowed on Risa."

"I think the Risians are used to it."

Beverly snuggled closer., running her hand through Kathryn's slightly damp hair. "Jean-Luc sang."

"Uhmm-hmm."

"I think our baby's going to like singing."

Kathryn smiled wearily and made an affirmative sound in the back of her throat.

Beverly continued thinking aloud, wandering from thought to thought long after Kathryn was asleep. Luckily, she found herself, and a thoughtful Da Vinci who choose a corner of the bed and stretched out to take it over entirely, a very excellent audience.


End file.
